Tainted
by wakawaka22
Summary: Pretenses slipped, carefully built facades crumbled beneath the here and now, and all was revealed. SebXCiel


**I do not own Kuroshitsuji.**

**Unbetaed.**

**My version of events, on all those stories out there where Ciel is broken.**

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><p>He snickered. He'd break his faith, bit by bit. He'd seen the naivety, seen the faith behind the harsh words, the trust in the sneers. He was young, oh-so-young, and yet so matured, as matured as a human could be. For there were different levels; the kind where people would give up anything, <em>everything<em> if they believed in something itself. And then there were the people who did it anyway, all without knowing the true consequences of their actions; holding their nose up high, looking down upon people. But the fact remained; they _looked_. And really, that was all was needed; that tiny bit of recognition, the first cracks in shields, the openings for darkness to seep through.

Darkness. True darkness.

The madness in which one found balance, balance between what truly _is_ and what _could be_, what something meant at surface value and what it meant deep below all its layers. Layers of truth, of lies, of emotions, of knowledge, of _ability._

The boy had had it within him. That is, the _potential_. The raw potential seeking out to him, calling him, luring it with its rarity, the chance for something he could reach. Such levels of profundity finally found in something as irrelevant and mundane as _humans_; it truly was an honour.

And who was mere Sebastian Michealis to refuse such offerings? A young boy, a scrawny little thing covered by life's most precious liquid – _blood_ –, begging, on his knees, and yet with such dignity…

Breathtaking, tantalizing.

And yet, for all his wisdom, the temptation was too strong. After all, good things never came without a price.

He should've known better.

~O~

Hearts beat, blood pounded, the world surrounded them in a blur of colour; so bright yet so gray. Blending together, pale white and even paler white, metallic blue against soft brown, like a premonition of what was to come. And yet, such precious clues lost in the whirlwind, the haze of lust, of sweat slicked skin rubbing against each other.

Thrusting, thrusting, again and again the demon pleasured the young boy and himself, mutual benefit somehow righting this whole mess of events. Years of waiting upon, patience lost that should never have been there, dignity re-bought and replaced, years of faking and painting layer upon layer, finally breaking in one night. Slip of a finger, accidental breach in boundaries, and their whole pretty world came crashing down upon them.

Dirtied gloves encased clawing hands, yearning for more upon smooth expanses of skin never been touched. Such out-of-reach, the banned were only yearned for all the more. Grunts and moans, mixing together like tendrils of life, broken whispers of empty promises whispered into the air, lost in the heat of things. Mouths clashed, tongue and teeth swirled together in a battle, a battle neither would win.

And the darkness seeped through.

Tainting that pureness, that little innocence left, of birth-given graces. Seeping in, crawling in, spreading its ugliness all around, creating never-ending trails of black amongst the white. With the joining of bodies, blue and purple hues blended, staring unseeingly into unforgiving red, giving their all unknowingly, all consciousness and purpose lost.

Pretenses slipped, carefully built facades crumbled beneath the here and now, and all was revealed.

Breathtaking.

Once more, the gifted butler found himself lost in temptation, in desire, no longer able to control himself in animalistic _need_ as powers buried deep within to make way for the unnatural finally released, consuming and wheedling as it dug its way into _food_. After such long years of repression, like a ticking time bomb, it explodes, merciless in its fury.

And unexpectedly it all stops.

The pain, the hurt, the betrayal of years long past. The colours drained came back in full force, painting the world a grotesque picture, pretty in its radiance. Dark red searched desperately for blue it'd grown accustomed to, finding none searching instead for purple. Hands reached blindly as all control left him weak and drained, the power usually following the process nowhere to be found.

Intimidating in its nakedness, suddenly vulnerable in confusion, knowledge lost as instincts drove primal eyes around the decorated room. Like pearls before swine, tasteful art slipped from their grasp, eyes blind in struggle, straining in vain.

What had happened?

"You should've known."

Standing tall, an ethereal blue glow surrounded the lithe body, elegant even though stained.

Ciel Phantomhive, the boy who'd, at a young age, lost everything. The boy who'd, older and yet still a child, had lost the last of his innocence, losing faith in anything and everything.

But that'd been the point, hadn't it? For him to lose everything?

"You underestimated me, demon."

Recognition and understanding slowly pooled in dark eyes, as all traces of primitive want disappeared, making space once more for intelligence and normalcy.

He'd succeeded, in a way. He'd finally succeeded in tainting the purest of souls, under circumstances. Filled it with hatred, with deception, with the stuff that haunted little children. But it was true; he'd underestimated the young boy. He'd taken a shot, missed, and now could do nothing but play along at his master's heels.

Ciel Phantomhive, filled with so much tangible eeriness… He'd broken, only to rise once more, tainted to the very depths, tainted even more so than even demons themselves. So infected, he couldn't possibly be driven anymore.

And that's where he differed.

When others became shells of their kind, finding comfort in insanity, he instead found peace within himself. He found balance; found sanity in the void that is insanity. He went through hell, only to find heaven buried deep within. That was his talent, his power.

To be able to find the single slice of heaven amongst the putrid decay.

Once more, the order of the world was restored, balance once more found, no matter how unfathomable. A dog would always follow along, leaping after his master, chasing after whatever was ahead. Nothing would be able to change that.

And so, that's all he was, in the world of the Phantomhive.

A dog.

Trailing forever behind his master.

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><p><strong>End<strong>

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><p><strong>Review please.<strong>


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